


Beach

by artificialperidot



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Sad, break up fic, tw cheating, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23278783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialperidot/pseuds/artificialperidot
Summary: Jose knew he was in too deep. He needed Brock too much. He was so easily submerged by thoughts of him, him, him.But on stormy days, Jose knew that the relationship was in danger. He felt himself being pulled under, unable to breathe and no way to stop himself from spiralling down.The breakup should’ve been a breath of fresh air. But it only pulled Jose under even deeper.He was drowning.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Beach

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ‘slightly too long to be a drabble’ kind of drabble which is essentially a lot of beach metaphors that I started writing at the beach. It has been up on artificialqueens on tumblr for a while, but I’ve decided to upload all of my works here. Feel free to say hi to me over on tumblr @artificialperidot, and I would love if you left me some feedback! Thanks :)

Jose used to love the beach.

They would go to the beach together every time they were in Florida, back at Jose’s family home. Jose liked showing Brock little parts of where he grew up, spilling his jar of memories to share with the person who was so special to him.

He would hold Brock’s hand and walk along the shore as he recited his favourite stories, tales from his childhood that made him feel like a little kid again, Brock’s goofy smile setting his heart alight. He loved nothing more than to walk beside him on the beach, showing everyone that Brock was his, and that he loved him and no one else. Even when Brock’s glance would leave his eyes and land on someone else, just for a second, he wouldn’t change a thing. Sure, it hurt a little, but Jose didn’t care. He loved him too much.

They would walk along the sand, soft and warm beneath their bare feet, and waves would lap over their skin, tethering them to reality and reminding them that they were alive.

He felt alive when he was with Brock. All it took was for Brock to be near him and Jose would forget about every worry in the back of his mind. 

It’s not that he didn’t feel alive now. It’s that he felt too alive. 

Each breath and heartbeat and blink felt too much, too heavy, like a sledgehammer to his already fragile heart.

He couldn’t remember a time when his heart wasn’t in his throat. He couldn’t remember a time when there was no buzz in his ears. He couldn’t remember a time when life was full of sunshine and beaches and Brock.

He could only remember the way it ended.

This isn’t going to work.

I can’t keep doing this.

I don’t love you anymore.

The last one. That one stung the most.

The words played on a loop inside his head for months afterwards, his thoughts consumed by nothing but Brock’s voice, drowning out any rational thought that suggested it was for the best.

And, Jose wished he could say he hated him.

But he couldn’t.

Brock was the sea. Cool. Refreshing. Calm. The perfect icy cold when everything was too hot, when the days felt too long and Jose needed somewhere to feel safe. Leaving the taste of salt and sweat and passion on Jose’s lips. The water sparkling like his sea green eyes, eyes that drew him in and made him never want to look away. Bubbling white foam providing a glimpse of hope, swirling on its surface and reassuring Jose that it would all be okay. Jose could float and relax and feel weightless with him.

But, Brock was the sea. Icy cold. Black. Dangerous. Full of flaws, like jellyfish that sting or piranhas that bite or long glances at other men that make Jose’s heart drop. The sting of saltwater like the tears in his eyes. The burn of salt at the back of his nose and throat each time he said his name. Each crashing wave going over Jose’s head, reminding him of how it all came crashing down before his eyes.

Jose knew he was in too deep. He needed Brock too much. He was so easily submerged by thoughts of him, him, him.

But on stormy days, Jose knew that the relationship was in danger. He felt himself being pulled under, unable to breathe and no way to stop himself from spiralling down.

The breakup should’ve been a breath of fresh air. But it only pulled Jose under even deeper.

He was drowning.

But, that didn’t mean that Jose didn’t like the sea. It didn’t mean that he didn’t love Brock.

Brock used to love the beach, too.

Whilst it was a far cry from his familiar Canadian landscape, there was something about the seaside that made him feel at ease. He hadn’t gone much as a kid, so it was Jose that truly introduced him to it. Brock loved nothing more than interlocking his fingers with Jose’s and letting him drag him along the shore, hearing his rough voice recite tales of his childhood, creating his own memories by listening to his.

The feeling of the sun beating down on his shoulders and the breeze on his skin and his hand holding Jose’s was something that Brock wanted to feel forever. It felt like he was weightless. It felt like he was flying. But most of all, it felt freeing.

Brock wished that he had always felt so free. But, like all good things in life, it didn’t last.

Being with Jose felt like being trapped. 

That’s not to say that he didn’t love Jose. He did. He adored him. Jose was his first boyfriend, the first person to love him back, the first person he’d committed himself to.

And that’s where the problem lay. The commitment.

As much as he loved and needed Jose, he couldn’t be loyal. He couldn’t stop himself from catching someone’s eye, even though he loved Jose more than anything in the world. The guilt he felt when he found another person attractive could have easily broken him, and the look on Jose’s face when he noticed was enough for him to crumble like chalk.

He felt like an asshole. As much as Jose would try and deny it, he could see how much he was hurting him. And, he had every right to be hurt. Brock would tell him every day how much he meant to him, how he was beautiful, wonderful, perfect - but, thanks to him, Brock knew that he would never believe him.

The trust was well and truly broken.

And that’s why Brock ended things.

He felt like he couldn’t be free to look at whoever he wanted. He wanted to go and explore new horizons without feeling tied down.

And, more than anything, he didn’t want to hurt Jose anymore.

He had really tried to end it on good terms. Really tried.

This isn’t going to work out the way we want it to.

I can’t keep doing this to you.

He’d tried to string words together to make Jose understand, but he was so afraid of hurting him that he couldn’t do it. With every sentence came Jose’s own, explaining that he loved him no matter what and that it was all okay and that they could fix it. That it wasn’t over.

Brock knew Jose was in too deep. He was blinded. He couldn’t see that Brock wasn’t good enough for him, that he deserved the world and that Brock could only give him heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak.

And he ended it the only way he thought would make Jose stop fighting.

I don’t love you anymore.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie he had ever told. The words tasted of bitter lemon on his tongue. The words played on repeat in his head like a curse. The words felt like a stab to the chest. He felt like a monster.

He’d tried to not hurt Jose. But he couldn’t have hurt him more if he tried.

Jose was the sand. Soft and warm like his hand holding Brock’s. Golden like his skin. Scattered with pebbles and shells, treasures of his personality that Brock loved more than anything, the things that made him Jose. He could bury him so easily, surrounding him with nothing but warmth and laughter and love.

Real love. A love that Brock couldn’t reciprocate.

Jose was the sand. Too hot, burning Brock’s feet. Gritty and sharp against Brock’s skin and sticking to him like glue, making him feel irritated and trapped and guilty whenever another guy crossed his mind. And yet, so easily crushed under Brock’s feet. So easily kicked aside, so easily swept away by the sea and replaced.

The sand and the sea are insoluble.

Jose’s commitment and Brock’s openness didn’t mix.

They were the sun. Warm. Strong. Burning bright. They shone together. The fans loved them, and they loved each other.

It should have worked. 

But it didn’t.

They were the sand and the sea. They were too different. 

They were the sun. They were on fire. They were burning.

And before they knew it they were burnt out, and all there was left was smoke and ashes and broken promises.

Because everything good must come to an end.

Everything is fine until it burns.


End file.
